


Small Battles

by PreciousRichard



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Depression, Drug Use, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 14:13:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9127264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PreciousRichard/pseuds/PreciousRichard
Summary: All snipers love quick solutions, but there are few with more patience than a sniper. So when life offers no quick solution to his lover's struggle, Sniper is very adept at facing it with him for as long as it takes.





	

It’d been a rough night just hours ago, before sleep washed over them at last. It’d been one of those days where Spy was pouring all of his energy into holding himself together and Sniper could see it. The pills on the bedside table sat alone in the camper’s dim light, the gray of a rainy morning cast upon it. When the sniper woke, Spy was facing away from him. When the sniper woke, the first thing he noticed upon weakly opening his eyes was the distance between his empty arms and the back before him. He shivered, feeling cold. He wondered if the spy was still asleep, and dared not wake him lest he get even less rest than usual. The taller man pulled the covers over his shoulders as he shuddered from the chilly air, and scratched at the bristly stubble of his jaw. 

“Did you just wake up?” Spy suddenly asked him, shifting to cast a glance upon the man curled up under the blanket behind him.

It surprised the sniper, who quickly recognized the slow and colorless tone in the other’s voice. Right away he deflated, knowing the other was either woken by his motions or had been awake all morning. He cursed the listless tone. He cursed the side effects. 

“Mm… Yeah.” The sniper mumbled in response, his mind going blank for words so soon after waking.

“You must have slept well.” Spy continued, just as dully as before.

“I guess…” Sniper murmured into the sheets, “Did you sleep alright?”

“I would hardly call it sleep.”

The Aussie winced, he had been awake all morning after all. He had a deep yearning for the Frenchman’s usual affections that he did not think were likely this morning. He pushed it down, and with a dull stinging pain he swallowed it. He wondered if the pills were worth it. He wondered if he wasn’t doing enough himself to soothe the man’s troubles. It came naturally to him when he crossed the cold sheets and buried his face into Spy’s back. It felt more right than anything else in his life when he wrapped his arms around him. The warmth of his skin seeped into the Aussie’s bones and eased his shivering, and despite the other’s stillness it soothed him too. Sniper felt the rise and fall of his ribcage against his own when the spy sighed at him.

“What is wrong, Mundy?” The spy asked him, turning his head and resting a hand on the arms that circled him.

Sniper furrowed his brow at the words. He knew full well the sniper was concerned for him but the fool worried over the sharpshooter anyway. He was hopeless, the sniper concluded, utterly and wonderfully hopeless. 

“Are you alright?” Sniper asked quietly, muffled into the other’s back.

“Yes, I am alright…” Spy returned, rubbing Sniper’s arm, “Just very tired.”

Sniper nuzzled at the man, somehow still starved for touch and desperate for it. His heart drummed hard with worry, and he squeezed firmly, rather than speaking with words. He knew Spy needed rest more than anything and if he could, he would have exchanged his own sleep – his own accuracy in battle – for Spy to have it. He could instead do nothing but watch him struggle, lying awake beside him as long as he could in the dead of night to ease his stress. He’d place kisses on his skin when he shifted, and utter vows of love when he’d huff back, frustrated at himself. He never liked the medicine, neither of them did, it seemed to make him unwell. Sometimes, on mornings like these, it stole his character away and drained the life from his eyes. No matter how many times the Sniper assured himself the side effects were temporary, he was never fully ready to see his lover so lifeless.

Spy turned to him, and a ripple of relief washed over the sniper. Before he could even settle into the mattress the Aussie pulled him in flush against his chest. The Frenchman sighed, and gripped the other firmly before squirming into a comfortable position.

“We must be off to work now.” He said flatly, face pressed against the sniper’s heated torso.

“I’ll just spend all day waiting to be back here with you.” Sniper said back, lip quickly curling into a grimace at his own flowery confession.

The spy sighed deeply, and Sniper held him like a vice, cheek pressed against the other’s forehead. An uneasy coil wound up tightly somewhere inside the sniper’s chest as he spoke, “I’m gonna miss ya today.” He said.

Spy stared on into the darkness under the covers, and eased himself closer still to the other. “I shall miss you as well.” He frowned. 

Sniper kissed his skin, then again, and again. Spy keened into it, sighing harder. Sniper ran his hands along the Frenchman’s arms, while he stretched upward to plant a single kiss to his stubbly chin.

When they dressed, Spy adjusted his watch as he made for the door, “Until we meet again, Amour.” He said, looking up with a haze in his eyes.

“Just another day on the job,” Sniper assured him, pulling an arm through a shirtsleeve and resting his palm on the other’s slack shoulders. “See you when it’s over Love.” 

With resigned trust, Spy nodded and tapped his watch, slipping invisibly out the door as Sniper pretended to step out for fresh air. He watched the path as faint footprints appeared across the misty ground, growing further until they were gone. He turned back inside toward the bottle of pills on the bedside table and grabbed them with a hollow clatter. Sneering, he threw them into the drawer, and slammed it shut.


End file.
